


Reckless Serenade

by Sheselectric



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheselectric/pseuds/Sheselectric
Summary: Any human marine would benefit from training with the turians, but Shepard might be getting more than she signed up for when she learns that sparing is an ultimate stress relief tactic for her fellow soldiers.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 21
Kudos: 116





	Reckless Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that part of Citadel DLC where Anderson talks of human-turian training? What if we did that, but mixed in some of the famous reach and flexibility story? 
> 
> By the way, Ashley is just a side-character here, so don't worry if she's not your cup of tea.

The planet was too hot and dry for comfort.

Shepard inhaled carefully, the dust settling uncomfortably in her nostrils, and looked towards her companions.

 _Turians_. Almost all of them.

Humans were few and in-between. The lucky ones, Anderson had told her. He went through a similar training back in the day and he’d bring it up as often as possible, working the Turian command to let Shepard in.

And they had a good reason to do so—she was one of the best in the N7 training and they sure liked to put human abilities to test. To prove they were not as capable as they thought. That they weren’t the right match for the Turians.

Shepard didn’t mind. She trusted her mentor's recommendation.

The first week of training had her body ache in the places she didn’t think possible, but by the second week, she was getting used to it. She even found a comrade in arms—Ashley, a woman so driven that they hit it off almost immediately.

“Skipper.” Ashley sat down next to her in the canteen, her tray filled with questionable rations.

Shepard nodded her head in acknowledgment. They were eating in silence for a few minutes, their attention fixated on getting as many calories as possible before the next training round. That was until Ashley leaned in her direction, her gaze traveling to the table full of young, male Turians.

“What are those… paintings on their faces?”

Shepard snorted as she looked at her.

“Clan markings. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that.”

Ashley swirled the food on her plate. “I’m not big on aliens. I thought those were just for decoration.”

“You know,” Shepard said quietly, “if we want to make it out here, we may want to become interested in their customs.”

Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” she said sarcastically before looking at the Turians again. “Some of those… _markings_ look nice. Like those blue ones. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Shepard’s eyes wandered to the Turian that Ashley meant and she had to agree. He had dark blue markings unlike any she’d seen before and icy blue eyes to match.

Maybe she was staring for a little bit too long because he turned his head in her direction, mandibles tightening as he looked at her. The interest in his eyes was cold; almost calculating.

Shepard offered him a small smile and his gaze turned from collected to surprised as he nodded his head in response before quickly turning away.

She laughed quietly as Ashley scoffed. They continued eating in silence, Shepard working really hard to not look back at the blue-eyed Turian. 

~

The next time she saw him was during their recon training. He was scouting ahead with another Turian at his side as she and Ashley jogged close behind.

“I’m not the one to complain,” her partner scoffed, “but I really wish those damn sand storms would settle down.”

Shepard agreed. The sand was grating on every piece of exposed skin and making her throat itch. Her Turian didn’t seem to mind though. He was keeping a steady pace, his movements alert but impressively smooth, and Shepard couldn’t help but stare with quiet admiration.

And the way he worked his gun… Shepard was a good shot. Great even. Trained reasonably in all kinds of weapons, but taking quite a liking to sniper rifles.

She was nothing compared to him though. He’d handle his Scimitar as if it was an extension of his arm, taking down enemies seconds before she did.

Maybe she was getting a bit _too_ interested in him.

“Vakarian,” one of the Turian officers that’d always follow the scouting teams rumbled and her Turian stopped in his tracks.

 _Vakarian_. Now she had the name to go along with his face. “Switch places with Williams.”

Without a word, Ashley left her side and Vakarian stepped in, his eyes avoiding her gaze.

“We’ll see how well that human-turian cooperation goes,” the officer laughed before disappearing off to the back.

They were supposed to trek another three miles, taking out automated mechs along the way, and Vakarian stayed quiet for the better part of their journey. Maybe under different circumstances, she’d feel awkward with a quiet stranger by her side but with him, it somehow felt right.

They seemed to naturally adjust to one another, instinctually knowing when the other would make the move.

“Impressive,” he said under his nose when she shot a mech from twenty meters away and the corner of her lip rose.

Maybe the admiration was mutual. And maybe they were both too closeted to admit it openly.

~

When she got back to the barracks, Ashley was already there, huffing as she dropped down pieces of her armor.

“You know how you always say that I should be kinder to aliens?”

Shepard nodded her head, knowing that a storm was coming.

“The one they paired me with today asked if I was _that_ Williams--the granddaughter of the man who gave in to Turians. You can imagine how that went.”

“Ashley…,” Shepard said carefully, knowing how touchy of a subject it was.

“No, it’s fine. I bit my tongue on duty, but now,” she said as she started changing into her uniform, “I’m going to beat the shit out of him.”

Shepard stepped in closer, frantic to stop Ashley from doing something that’d get her into a full month of lavatory duty.

“If you do that, you’ll…”

“Relax, Skipper,” Ashley interrupted her with a small smile, “I’m not stupid. The Turians are sparing after hours, so I’m going to pay them a little visit. You know, for educational purposes.” Her smile turned into a full-on grin.

“Sparing? Doesn’t that interfere with training?” It was the first Shepard heard of it.

“No. Some of the men call it _stress relie_ f. It’s under supervision, so not like they can really harm each other.”

“Uh-huh.” Shepard wasn’t sure she believed it but then again, the command ran their soldiers tight. Perhaps they realized some of that tension had to be re-routed.

“See? I’m learning all about their culture,” Ashley said before pulling on her boots. “Wanna come? It will be a good show.”

Shepard pondered it for a few seconds, deciding that she deserved some entertainment after a long day’s work.

“Sure.”

When they entered the training hall, one of the sparing matches was already underway. A male and female Turian going at it with deadly ferocity, surrounded by a cheering crowd of soldiers.

Shepard quickly figured out the rules—no protective gear, but also no punches in the face, kicks, biting, or scratching. The first person to spend five seconds on the ground would lose. Should the round go the full two minutes without anyone getting beaten, there’d be up to two more, but that rarely happened.

The last information came from an eager human man who clocked them seconds after they joined the crowd.

“Doesn’t sound too hard,” Ashley muttered. “I just need to find my… Ah, there he is.” She pointed her head in the direction of the Turian she was paired with that day, standing next to no-one else but Vakarian.

The moment her eyes stopped at his face, he gave her a small nod, his mandibles clicking slightly. Shepard nodded back, a gentle smile on her face. As weird as it felt, it was good to see him.

“Let’s go,” Ashley said and started squeezing through the crowd. She cleared her throat loudly as they approached the two men. “What about a match?” She was eyeing her Turian, a quiet challenge in her eyes.

Shepard wasn’t a master of reading their facial expressions but she could tell the more dramatic ones, and the man in front of her was clearly amused.

“Need to prove yourself, Williams?” A little laugh escaped his mouth and Vakarian cleared his throat as he looked on the floor.

“I don’t need to prove anything to you,” Ashley said as she took a step closer. “But I’d love to see your skills in action. Didn’t show me much during our recon.”

Her words struck a chord and the Turian’s eyes turned into slits as he looked at her.

“After you,” he said sarcastically as they entered the sparing area.

It must have been quite an event to see a human in there because the whole room fell silent as they watched Ashley. But once the two started to spare, the crowd erupted into shouts and whistles—louder each time she threw a punch.

“Your friend doesn’t take prisoners,” Vakarian said and when Shepard turned to face him, he was closer than expected. “Luckily, neither does mine.”

The cockiness in his voice made a jolt of electricity run down her spine, a pleasant tingling spreading on her skin. She cleared her throat before looking back to the fight.

“We’ll see.”

There wasn’t a clear winner yet--surely a source of her new acquaintance’s comment--but she knew Ashley would wear him down eventually. And she did during round three, as the Turian started to make mistakes. All it took was a well-placed swing and he fell to his floor, scrambling to get up as one of the officers called it.

To Shepard’s surprise, some people in the crowd cheered. She didn’t know whether it was because they liked to see the man down or because a human proved herself, but it didn’t matter. A sense of belonging felt just the same.

“You have no idea how good it feels to put them in their place,” Ashley said as she approached her.

“I can imagine,” Shepard muttered as she patted her friend on the arm.

Ashley exhaled and wiped the sweat off her forehead. “I’ve had enough of those guys for today. I’m calling it a night.”

For whatever reason, Shepard decided to stay behind. Maybe because it was a welcome break from her routine or maybe because she caught sight of Vakarian entering the arena. She preferred to think it was the former.

She squeezed her way back to the front row, just as he prepared to fight against a Turian she’d never seen before. With Vakarian’s long-rage experience, she had no reason to believe he’d be good in hand-to-hand combat, but she was proven wrong the second the sparing started.

Just as during his recon, he moved smoothly, repelling every attack seemingly without breaking a sweat. And when he saw the opening, he struck with enough force to make his opponent lose whatever advantage they had. He was a good tactician, she thought as she watched the fight.

With the first man, it really was all about his approach. Shepard analyzed combat as she always did—with years of training, it was as natural as breathing.

That was until Vakarian stopped knocking his opponents down and was faced with someone of equally strong footing.

As with a click of a switch, his movements turned from smooth to predatory. Or maybe they were predatory to begin with, but Shepard had too little knowledge of Turians to see it sooner.

Along with the approach, his entire expression changed, mandibles pulled tight to his face, and an angry gaze centered on his opponent. In that moment, Shepard understood why veteran soldiers from Shanxi called Turians monsters.

The longer she looked, the more fascinated she became. And soon a weird sense of excitement set in, making her body shiver slightly as she watched. He was alien and familiar at once and, for reasons that she didn’t dare examine yet, she could feel the arousal spike between her legs.

 _Maybe it was enough for one day_ , she told herself as she slowly disappeared into the crowd and out of the training hall.

~

Coming to sparing matches became a thing for Shepard and Ashley. Twice a week, they’d get back from training and straight into the hall—Shepard because she enjoyed comradery and Ashley because she liked to fight. It felt good to let go of the pent-up stress

Sometimes Vakarian would be there too, nodding his head encouragingly anytime he saw her. And sometimes they’d exchange a few words. It was nothing special, a small talk about events of the day or plans for the next, but the more it happened, the more she wanted.

She didn’t push it though. They were working perfectly fine as acquaintances and Vakarian showed no interest beyond mere pleasantries.

He never offered a sparing match either, even though he fought each time he was there. That was until they were paired up again—a combat training with simulated injuries. Each duo let loose in a secluded location and told to return _alive._

In the beginning, it was working out well--they had to disable security systems that’d allow them to go through an “abandoned” mech factory. As it turned out, Vakarian was something of a tech expert, dealing with the first part of their task in a few minutes. Shepard started to wonder what else was he good at.

The mechs were a whole other story though; not dangerous when you had to take out two or three, but deadly when faced with a whole platoon. And as it turned out, the factory was crawling with them.

It took them about thirty seconds to figure out that each hit in the armor took away five percent of their assigned health. Twenty shots would be all it took for them to be marked as dead and called back from training, each move scrutinized by the command to push them even harder in the future.

As much as she didn’t mind hard work, Shepard did not want _that_. She could imagine Vakarian didn’t either. But as each corridor ended with a new group of mechs, she realized that regular measures wouldn’t work. It was the kind of situation where you had to create havoc and wish for a safe escape instead of taking on each enemy.

He agreed.

“They might take away a few points for that, but I don’t care,” he rumbled as they prepared their plan.

The factory room they entered was a maze of containers, but it was exactly what they relied on. Shepard squeezed herself into one of the tight spaces and slowly made her way to the center of the room. Vakarian was tagging close behind. And as they both took a deep breath, the mechs started coming to life, their unsettling commands filling the room. Now it was just a case of good timing.

They got into a corridor leading to the exit, their enemies following as intended, and when the first one shot his gun, she and Vakarian nodded their heads in agreement. Shepard jolted ahead, turning her head away time and again to see him dropping proximity mines.

When the first one went off, she could feel the shake traveling down the containers, heart beating loudly in her chest. And then the other ones started exploding, the containers behind them wobbling and falling to the sides.

When they reached the exit, the mechs were either destroyed or cut off, and she could feel the euphoric high of their risk having paid off.

“It wasn’t a subtle plan, but it was a plan,” Vakarian said as they breathed in dusty air and she laughed in response.

He laughed too. And then he looked at her as if he thought of something she wouldn’t understand, his mandibles clicking. “We should spare tonight.”

Shepard looked at him in surprise but before she could think about it, the words were already coming out of her mouth.

“I’d like that.”

~

His offer started weighing down on her as she waited for their match. It wasn’t fear that she felt—not exactly—but she stepped from foot to foot anyway, trying to calm herself down.

Vakarian was by her side, seemingly unaware of her state until he leaned in and she could feel his warm breath on her ear.

“Relax, I’ll go easy on you.”

She turned her head in his direction, the tense feeling leaving her muscles as she started to laugh quietly.

“Very funny,” she said and the expression he wore would be a grin had he been human.

“You two,” the officer overseeing the matches called on them and Shepard took a deep breath as they stepped to the center of the hall. “Three rounds to go,” he announced and she cracked her neck in preparation.

Whatever she felt before evaporated as she and Vakarian started to face each other. Watching all of his matches before paid off—he couldn’t take her down with his first strike and it was as good of a sign as any. All she needed to do then was to apply the defensive techniques that the Alliance taught her and hope for an opening to take him down.

This part turned out to be as hard as expected. He might have had a routine, but he was quick and observant, learning her tactics as he went. Theirs was less of a match and more of a face-down with the two of them circling each other as predatory animals, waiting for their chance to go all in.

And even though Shepard never felt that blood-thirsty satisfaction that so many people did when in hand-to-hand combat, she was enjoying herself. More than she expected to. The adrenaline was pumping through her body, forcing a teasing smile on her lips.

Vakarian seemed to be in the same state of mind, his mandibles clicking as his eyes followed every little move she made. There was something sexual about it—something that she had never experienced with another human--and the realization made a blush rise on her cheeks and chest.

Maybe that was the opening he was looking for because in that split second when she was trying to get her mind on the right track, he caught her arm and swung her body to the floor. And then he was between her legs, holding her down with full force to the loud cheer coming from the crowd.

_One…_

She couldn’t lose like this.

_Two…_

He had her arms pinned down, but not her legs. She rammed her knee into his side, knowing that it was one of the softest spots on Turian bodies.

_Three…_

Vakarian yanked back momentarily and she forced him on his back, straddling his hips in the process to hold him down.

_Four…_

He pushed her off him as if her iron clasp meant nothing and…

_Five._

They were both breathing heavily and not looking at each other. And since they were both on the floor, there was no winner.

The crowd was screaming and whistling, unsatisfied with the outcome but clearly ready for more. Vakarian got up first and extended his hand to help her back up. The soft touch—so different to what she had experienced seconds earlier--sent a pleasant warmth down her body and she swallowed hard as they got back into positions.

During the second round, they were both going for the kill, wanting to put the other one down and keep them there, if only to prove that they could. A rivalry laced with a kind of heavy tension that made her head spin. She didn’t know if it was coming off him, her, or maybe the both of them, but it was there and it was palatable.

And this time, there was no winner either. Shepard knew that it rarely happened—in truth, she had only heard of such a gridlock, never having seen it in the times she came to watch. Vakarian knew it too, his entire posture changing to show her that she would _not_ win the final round. In her mind, it remained to be seen.

When the officer called the ultimate face-down, her body seemed to take on a mind of its own, charging into Vakarian without as much as a second thought. He repelled her punch, but not without stumbling just a little bit, making an opening that she so hoped for. Shepard wedged her foot behind his and he fell back to the overwhelmingly loud reaction from the crowd.

He wouldn’t let her win though—not like this.

The second she tried to pin him down, he grabbed her calf and threw her on the floor, making air escape from her lungs. She quickly turned to the side and then up from the floor, taking a punch in the arm the second she stood on her feet.

Vakarian didn’t look like himself at that point. He was fully and undoubtedly focused on taking her down—it didn’t look like a fully conscious decision either, but something that he _had_ to do. A primal instinct, she thought, and she could feel a shiver of excitement running down her spine.

He threw in another punch, the one she deflected, and then another. There was no opening to get back at him, so the best she could do was defend herself until the match was over. And when the halt came mere seconds later, there was no satisfaction in it.

In fact, she felt as if they should go on until it was resolved. Until the tension was gone. But the way her skin seemed to burn and her stomach would clench in expectation, told her that maybe it wouldn’t be gone then either.

No matter how the match turned out, the opponents were supposed to shake hands by the end of it. A no-hard-feelings kind of thing enforced by the command to emphasize it was all in good spirit and there’d be no bad blood after it was done.

Vakarian was the first to reach out and his warm hand closed on hers as if to never let go. As if he was unable to. But he finally did and she quickly nodded her head before disappearing into the dissatisfied crowd.

Any other time Shepard would make her way into the barracks to catch as much sleep as possible, but not that night. She could feel the adrenaline thumping in her ears and decided that whatever chance at rest she had, depended on whether she could force herself to calm down. 

She wandered to the canteen, knowing that it’d be empty, and the into the kitchen to grab herself a bottle of an icy cold water. 

When she went back to the dining area, it was illuminated by the light of the moon and perfectly quiet, making her heavy heart-beat that much more apparent. 

She sat down on the edge of the table and took a small sip. But no matter how long she sat there the unresolved tension was still there—wedged somewhere deep inside her and waiting to be released.

“Shepard,” the voice came from her right, and had she not been a marine with years of experience, she would have jumped in her seat.

Instead, she slowly put the bottle down and turned to him.

Vakarian was standing a foot away, his posture seemingly relaxed, but gaze full of ferocity that made heat spike in her stomach. And then the tension flooded back in full force, thickening the air between them, and forcing her to stand up.

“I haven’t had a tie in ages,” he said conversationally, but his voice was lower than usual and it did something to her insides.

“Oh?” was all she managed to say while he took another step in her direction.

“I told myself ‘Garrus, you know better than this’ but then I thought we should settle it anyway.”

“Garrus?” Shepard said and he shook his arms nonchalantly.

“Vakarian is what the boys call me.”

Another step in her direction and they’d now be face to face if not for the height difference. Shepard took an automatic step back, her back hitting the table.

“So, you want to fight? Here?” She asked and he put his hands on the table, locking her in.

“There are other ways of settling ties,” he said and his eyes locked on hers.

And that was when she knew. The pull between them wasn’t one-sided. It never had been.

The arousal rose in the pit of her stomach and traveled down the thighs, turning her voice into a raspy whisper.

“Like what?”

Garrus didn’t need to answer.

He grabbed her thighs unceremoniously and sat her on the table, bumping his forehead with hers in the process. As he wrapped his arms around her, he took a deep breath, and then slowly licked her neck. A quiet gasp escaped her lips.

None of it was what she expected, and maybe fraternizing like this wasn’t the best idea, but she didn’t care. She wanted it. She wanted _him_ for too long now, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself before.

Shepard wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her body, and leaned her head back allowing him better access. He didn’t waste time, trailing his tongue down the length of her neck and down to her collarbone, his gloved hands pressing into her back with a nagging need.

And then he grabbed on her shirt, pulling it over her head without an ounce of decorum. When his face found itself between her breasts, she let out a small moan, pushing her chest forward.

It was only when he dragged her bra down instead of taking it off that she remembered they were aliens.

She’d never slept with anyone but human men, and he’d clearly never been close with humans, the clumsiness in his machinations apparent. But it didn’t matter because whatever knowledge he lacked, he more than made up for it with passion as his tongue rolled over one of her nipples, making the pleasure travel right to her core.

Shepard grabbed his neck and pulled him to her face, trailing her lips over his mandible and up to his mouth plates. They were strangely coarse and warm, but they somehow felt good and she shivered as she thought of kissing him.

And when her tongue finally slipped into his mouth, his behavior changed. Just like when they spared, his instinct started to overshadow the controlled behavior as he roughly grabbed her back and forced her to stand on the floor.

Garrus turned her around and pressed himself into her back, his hands traveling down her sides and between her legs. He couldn’t have known how to please her, but the way his talons slid up and down her panties was enough to make her want more.

She put her hand on his, showing him exactly how to move and he was more than eager to learn, eliciting a moan that echoed in the empty room.

The intense pleasure was spreading down her body, her moans getting louder with each rub.

“You need to keep it down,” he rasped with his talons working between her legs as if he didn’t really mean it.

Shepard bit her lip and rested her head on his arm, reminding herself that he was right and while no-one would come to the canteen unprompted, the noise was enough to alert people outside. For whatever reason, it thrilled her, and she pressed into him hard. That was when he grabbed her hips, forcing her pants down and quickly working on his own.

But if he came to settle their match, she wouldn’t do it without looking at his face.

She turned around to his slight surprise and sat on the table, spreading her legs in an inviting manner, enjoying how he swallowed hard with a predatory look in his eyes.

Garrus stepped in, hands placed firmly on her hips as he pressed on her entrance, and she braced herself with quiet excitement.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice was strained and she quickly nodded her head.

Whatever she was expecting, the feel of him wasn’t it. He was bigger than human men and pulsing with a pleasant heat that made her gasp when he started to move--somehow cautiously at first, adjusting to the strange sensation in the same way she did.

When he learned it worked just about the same as with women he was accustomed to, he picked up the pace. 

His thrusts were hard and fast, but she could sense the calm experience under the rawness of his desire for her. He knew what he was doing as he slid in and out in a pointed rhythm, forcing her to hold onto his arms as moans started to fill the room again.

The feeling was overwhelming—heavy, and hot, and utterly _right._ And the second she felt as if she was tethering on the edge, he pushed her down onto the table, towering over her with a gaze that made the breath catch in her throat.

Garrus grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the table, his movements not rapid anymore, but still hard enough to make her thighs tremble anytime he thrust in.

 _He won_ , she thought as she felt the first sparks of orgasm spreading down her groins. Maybe the tension between them was about this to begin with. God, she hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. The way he moved—how he felt—inside of her was driving her crazy.

Her thoughts stopped making sense as she came, clasping her hand over her mouth to stifle the noises. She couldn’t silence them all down when she felt him finish too, her legs shaking as he slowly stepped back.

When she finally got off the table and started putting on her clothes, the cockiness that Garrus waltzed in with was gone. He was standing next to her somehow awkwardly as if waiting to speak.

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” he muttered finally. “I guess I should’ve… Or maybe…” He couldn’t find the right words and she found it weirdly endearing.

“It’s all right,” she said with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I enjoyed myself.”

Garrus let out a small laugh.

“One way to work off the tension, I suppose.” He stepped closer and reached out to caress her arm—a small gesture that made her blush. “Maybe we didn’t start in the…,” he said and quickly cleared his throat, “right place, but I’d love to get to know you more.”

Shepard returned his soft gesture, wrapping her fingers around his hand.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly and his mandibles clicked. “But maybe after we’ve had time to rest?”

He laughed again and she let go of him.

“Yeah, I’ll need _a lot_ of resting after this one. I’ll see you tomorrow, Shepard,” he said and she nodded her head.

They went their separate ways, sliding quietly out of the canteen, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she made her way back into the barracks.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short and sweet one-shot, but turned into this 5k+ bad-boy. If I continue like this, I might just need to start writing multi-chapters lol.


End file.
